The face of heaven so fine
by girlwithangelwings
Summary: Jily meets Romeo and Juliet. Lily is at a party and meets her Romeo, but who is he?


**A.N. A crossover that popped into my head. If there is interest I will pursue this :). Lily's POV.  
**

It had been a habit even before I was born: every year my parents would throw a costumed masquerade on Christmas evening.

Ever since I could read, I dressed up as my favourite literary character. Things got a little iffy to explain when I started reading Wizard literature, so my mother forced me to please not be something magical. As much as I loved annoying my sister and her whale-like fiancé (my favourite joke was telling them to go as Ahab and Moby), this year I had decided on going Muggle again. Not that anybody would recognize me anyway, as they were a bunch of uncultured little shits. This year, I was dressed as my heroine: Shakespeare's Juliet.

'Lily, come here! I'd love for you to meet my intern, this is Steve.'

My dad snatched me away from a fun cousin and ushered me towards a guy who was dressed as – I kid you not – the Eiffel tower.

'Oh. Hi there, Steve.'

'No, no. You should call me Paris tonight. See, I'm the Eiffel tower.'

'Paris? Honestly?'

I didn't think he'd catch the irony of my father setting me up with "Paris" and telling him the city Paris existed of more than the Eiffel tower seemed mean.

'Would you like to dance?' he asked.

'Sure, Paris.'

Paris led me unto the dance floor and started moving around me like a peacock in heat. It must be hard to dance in a costume like that. As I stood there, embarrassed to death, I saw _him_ coming in. He wore a white linen shirt, black trousers, knee high leather boots and a black cape. A black satin mask was tied back into his golden hair, hazel eyes meeting mine across the room. If I narrowed my eyes a little, I could make out a golden M embroidered on his cape.

Could it be true? Had my Romeo arrived?

A smile crossed his full lips and I swore I recognized that smirk, but I couldn't quite figure out on who it belonged.

He broke our eye contact to look around if anyone else had seen him come in. Was he a party crasher? Was he seriously not supposed to be here as Romeo wasn't supposed to be at the Capulet ball? It was almost scary to live my favourite play.

Romeo moved into the dancing crowd as a slow song started. Before Paris could get me in his grip, my knight in not-so-shining armour grasped my hand and tugged me away from the Eiffel tower.

'Hi,' I whispered, staring up to him.

He smiled, not speaking a word, but rather pulled me into a waltz position, hand dangerously low on my back. He moved me across the floor with seeming ease, despite never looking away from me. Like the perfect Juliet, the naïve part of me was already falling in love with my handsome stranger. The fact that I felt a deeper connection with him scared me to bits, had it been like this for her?

The song ended and the next song blared loudly through the speakers, some hip dancing song with way too much bass. I hardly caught his words when he yelled at me.

'…out..?'

I nodded at him and without letting go of my hand, he guided me into the hallway. We could still hear the music, but I was sure I could also hear him now. He stepped closer to me and I was pressed back into the wall. His hand let go of mine to fly up and brush a thumb across my bottom lip, eyes burning into mine. I gasped softly.

'If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.'

Instead of replying with the line I knew by heart, I stared at him in shock mixed with utter adoration. I knew that voice. The smirk fell into place.

'James?'

He grew his trademark smirk and his hand went to the back of my head to untie my mask. I mirrored his actions and removed his mask. How did I not recognize him? The tidy blond hair threw me off, I missed his unruly mop of raven hair. He dropped both masks to the floor and moved his body closer to me. This might be the moment I needed to admit I was desperately in love with my Romeo.

'O then, my dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair,' he whispered.

'You skipped lines.'

'I don't care. I want to kiss you.'

I smiled at him and my insides fluttered.

'Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake,' I answered.

'Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.'

He finally kissed me, lips moving gently over mine. Butterflies, angel chorus, fireworks, the whole shebang was there.

'Then have my lips the sin they have took?' I asked him, a little breathless, when he broke the kiss.

'Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.'

'You kiss by the play,' I teased, forming the line to our situation.

I could feel his lips curling up into a smile during our kiss and I slid my hands into his perfect hair. The kiss took longer than I suppose Romeo and Juliet kissed, but I didn't care much. When he pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, it still took me a while to grasp what the hell just happened. Without opening my eyes, I said:

'You're blond.'

'I am. It seems to be the general opinion that Romeo is blond. And I wanted to see how long it would take you.'

'Quite a while. Not impressive, Head Girl. How did you… Romeo?' I asked, a very unintelligible sentence, but that was entirely his fault.

'You said it was your favourite literature thingy. I figured, why not woo you.'

'Woo me?'

I finally opened my eyes to look at him.

'It is my lady. O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were!' he quoted.

'I am?'

'You are, you know you are.' He briefly pressed his lips to mine again. 'Be my Juliet, Lily.'

I didn't know what to say right away. I saw his hair slowly turning black again.

'Your spell is wearing off,' I said, gesturing towards his hair.

'Darn it.'

I stopped him when he started searching for his wand.

'Don't. I prefer a raven haired Romeo. My own Romeo.'

His answering smile was dazzling.

'So, you'll be my Juliet?'

'Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all the world will be in love with the night.'

'I'll take that as a yes.'

'It's more of a hell yes.'

He kissed me again lovingly. He drew back suddenly as if he remembered something.

'I hope we don't die young, though,' he said.

'If I had to choose between loving you and breathing, I would use my last breath to say I love you.'

Ironically, five years later, I did. Standing in front of Harry's crib with the green ray shooting towards me, I closed my eyes. I saw the pattern of stars I always saw in James' eyes, almost as if it was him as a constellation. Right before the Killing Curse hit me, with the last breath I would ever use, it was a whisper on my lips:

'The face of heaven so fine…'


End file.
